


Message of Love

by wendymr



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Music as metaphor, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymr/pseuds/wendymr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Good playing requires inspiration, and his inspiration is on leave in Manchester.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Somniare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/gifts).



> For Somniare: a tiny treat, in honour of her birthday.

His guitar chords sound hollow in the empty flat.

It’s not as if he hasn’t played in an empty flat before. He plays in his own all the time. But this is Lewis’s flat and he’s never played here, for Lewis or in its current silent void. Lecuona’s _Malaguena_ sounds dull and dreary, devoid of life or emotion.

James sets his guitar aside. Good playing requires inspiration, and his inspiration is on leave in Manchester.

 _Mind flat-sitting for me?_ Lewis asked. _Bit worried about the yobs hanging around outside lately._

The vacant space on the sofa silently chants _alone, alone_.

* * *

The sounds of cheerful chaos fade in his mind as he drives south, and even _Manon Lescault_ on Radio 3 can’t fill the silence now Matthew’s not here to call him _G’anda_. He’s not ready to retire and move to Manchester, but at times like this the stark contrast between Lyn’s lively home and his silent flat makes him reconsider.

How many more years of living alone, with James keeping him occasional company out of the goodness of his heart? How long before James meets someone and Robbie never sees him any more?

On cue, Puccini changes to Tchaikovsky's _Pathetique_.

* * *

A key turns in the lock.

James stands, heart thumping. “You weren’t due back until tomorrow.”

Lewis’s weariness fades, replaced by pleasure. “Forgot you were here.”

“I can...” Go, he almost says, but that’s not what Lewis wants, is it?

“Stay?” Lewis drops his bag, fetches beer and fills the space on the sofa, pressed against James; warm, solid. Now, the silence isn’t empty; they’ve never needed words to speak. 

Later, James plays, Schubert’s _Liebesbotschaft_ filling the darkened room. Robbie’s eyes are soft, and he reaches for James’s hand.

“Solace to the soul, that.”

James leans against Robbie. _Not alone_.

**Author's Note:**

> James plays Schubert’s _Liebesbotschaft_ in the final drabble; Robbie, knowing German, would of course understand the title as _Message of Love_.


End file.
